


All of the Stars.

by BabyinaFlannel18



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 90s Acoustics, Angst and Tragedy, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Lisa bond over Dean, Castiel is Protective of Dean Winchester, Castiel keeps the war in heaven a secret, Castiel visits Dean periodically, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Civil War in Heaven (Supernatural), Classic Rock, Commander Castiel, Conversations in the Impala (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Has Anger Issues, Dean Winchester Has Feelings For Castiel, Dean Winchester is Ben Braeden's Parent, Dean Winchester is torn between Castiel and Lisa, Dialogue Heavy, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/F, F/M, Family Dinners, Gen, Grieving Dean Winchester, Inspired by Music, Lisa Braeden is a sweetheart, Manifestation of memories, Non-Endgame Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Post-Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Quote: Angels are watching over you. (Supernatural), Rafael being a dick(but I still sympathise with him sue me), Resurrection, Sam Winchester in Hell, Sam Winchester in Lucifer's Cage, Seraph Castiel (Supernatural), Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, What happened in that one year between S5 and S6, indie rock, takes place between s5 and s6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29113188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyinaFlannel18/pseuds/BabyinaFlannel18
Summary: ‘It’s okay, Dean. I’ve got him.”Sam’s words still clung to him like they’d been carved into his skin. The last words he said before he disappeared into the pit forever. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.But it had. And there wasn’t a damn thing Dean could do except—Except keep a promise he made to Sam. Promise of a white picket-fence life. A normal life, devoid of the horrors of hunting.A life without Sam. And...a life without Cas.Lisa and Ben were his ideal family, or so he tried to believe. He loved them, and they loved him back. On the surface, they were a happy household. Dean, however, was anything but.On some particularly starry nights, he finds his head tilt skywards, lips moving in a silent prayer to the angel who’d left with a promise of his own. Talking of his lost brother, and his own lost purpose. Most nights, Castiel doesn’t  answer back.But one night, he does.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	1. Already Gone.

**“Remember all the things we wanted**

**Now all our memories, they’re haunted**

**We were always meant to say goodbye.”**

  
**—Already Gone(Sleeping at Last)**

Castiel’s eyes were glued to the raindrops matted on the Impala’s window, as Dean revved up towards Sioux Falls. With his powers newly restored and being promoted to the Seraphim—Castiel could sense his surroundings in much more detail than before. The rain drenched streets around them gave a strict scent of ozone and lightning, a taste he could feel in his rejuvenated grace. The silent pattering of water, the contrast between the cold temperature outside and the relative warmth inside, though neither affected him anymore and finally the stormy turmoil in Dean’s soul.

Lucifer was back in his cage due to Sam Winchester’s sacrifice, along with Michael and Heaven was more unstable than it had ever been before. Castiel never liked to think of himself as a leader, but he knew this was the time to step up if he wanted to protect his brethren and keep the souls in heaven’s custody safe. He had to become what Dean had referred to as the ‘New Sheriff in Town’. However, a significant part of him wanted to stay here, with Dean, if only for a little while longer before he inevitably had to leave.

Dean was less than happy with his decision, but it was something that couldn’t be helped. Being an angel of the lord, renewed by his Father, his first and foremost duty was to Heaven and the angels. His personal biases couldn’t take precedence to that.

So, he turned his head to look at his human companion, a look similar to longing swirling in his deep blue eyes, not missing the way Dean’s fingers clenched around the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry, Dean. But you have to understand why I need to be in heaven. God, he brought me back for a purpose and my resurrection would be worthless if I don’t follow it.”

  
"Worthless?" Dean snapped, pressing his foot down harder on the gas pedal. He was tired and he was angry—at Cas, at himself, at friggin’ destiny. He'd lost his brother, the only person that mattered to him in the world. The one he’d went to hell for so he could prevent Sam’s suffering. But big surprise, he’d failed again. Like every other goddamn time he’d tried to save Sam. God and his plan had a really shitty sense of humour when it came to the Winchesters.

The only upside to this absolute clusterfuck was that Bobby was alive, courtesy of the feathered nerd beside him. He should’ve been thankful, but the guilt and pain and anger crowded so much of his head that he couldn’t help but direct all of it at the angel. Sam was really gone, trapped to witness the worst cage match in the history of the universe, stuck between two warring archangels for eternity. And this time, Dean had to keep going without him. There was no way to bring him back, and he had a damn promise to keep.

He had thought that he’d at least have Cas by his side. After all they’ve been through together, after Cas rebelled against heaven for their sake and sacrificed himself for stopping the apocalypse twice—it did seem selfish of him to expect Cas to stay. But logic had never been able to outweigh Dean’s strong emotional outbursts. And this time, Sam’s disappearance into the pit had worsened it.

  
"Cas, you- Bobby would’ve been…if you hadn’t saved him. It isn’t worthless. And what, you really think God brought you back to fix a system that he broke in the first place? The system he didn’t give two shits about when he abandoned it?”

His hands tightened on the wheel again and the pedal was pushed harder.

If Castiel wasn’t a being of essentially limitless patience, he thought he would’ve been offended by that. Instead his lips pursed to let out a thin breath of air and his eyes drifted skywards, as they often did when he thought of home.

Ever since he’d been on Earth for the last couple of years, his definition of ‘home’ had started to blur. For a lot of humans, it signified a place of love, a place of comfort and care. But for the Winchesters, and Dean specifically—home was the people he had come to call his family. Home was his beloved car. Home was the scent of a freshly baked apple-pie.

Dean had always cared too deeply, wholly, with everything he had. That was the most ‘human’ thing about him, and one that made him infinitely more beautiful. But Castiel just wasn’t used to being cared for, and the amount of emotions pouring out of Dean’s soul were far too overwhelming.

“I have to believe he did. I do understand your anguish, Dean. But right now, my faith in my father is what will help me restore heaven’s order. I just—I hope you know how much I wish I could stay.”

  
But of course, it was never about what he wanted. It was always about what was needed to be done.

"Faith." Dean scoffed, engine roaring under his grip. He was never huge on faith ever in his life. Being a hunter, witnessing death and hopelessness on a daily basis left no place for believing in something better. For most of his lifetime, he had thought Faith was some made up thing people created to distract themselves from the crappy reality of their lives. Until he met Castiel—a literal angel who was a freaking salesperson of all things belief-related and well, for what it was worth, dude sold a solid pitch. He’d almost believed in Cas’ dreamtopia of a better world. A paradise.

But now, what was even left to have faith in? Some deadbeat God that orphaned the entire creation? Hard pass. Dean’s had enough of shitty fathers to last a lifetime or three.

  
“Look, Cas—Heaven really ain’t your responsibility anymore. Not friggin’ flying away for once might be a nice change of pace."

Dean really tried not to let his bitterness about God seep into his words, but his filter didn’t really work when every passing second reminded him of how his brother was burning in hell while he was topside. And it certainly didn’t help when Cas was looking at him with those damned blue eyes of his with all the patience in the world. It just made him hate himself more.

The last part of Dean’s statement hit Castiel unexpectedly hard. If he was the same angel that Dean had met in that barn, he wouldn’t have hesitated to remind the human of his celestial status and minding his words when talking to him. But right now, he just averted his gaze back at the rain-drenched road.

“You of all people should know that I can’t abandon my responsibility, Dean. What would you have done were you in my place?”

  
Castiel didn’t mention it but the comparison of his own responsibility of Heaven with Dean’s of Sam wasn’t exactly subtle.

  
The hunter's foot suddenly slammed on the breaks, the car skidding to a stop on the highway, with no one else in sight. Cas didn’t just compare his relationship with Sam with whatever love-hate thing he had going with heaven. Those flying ass monkeys didn’t give two shits about each other, they were almost as bad as the demons. And implying that their obligatory relationship with each other was anywhere close to what he and Sam shared was a punch to his face.

He turned in his seat, his green eyes brimming a darker shade as he glared at the angel, the inadvertent pain slipping in too.

“I would’ve asked those winged dicks up in the attic to stow away their crap. I would’ve cut ties with them the moment they freaking glow-torched me in the name of some bullshit God’s plan. And don’t you dare compare your responsibility to Heaven’s smitey locals with my brother who just offed himself for the planet's sake.”

  
He paused, hands still tight on the wheel, white knuckled. He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he kept his heated gaze trained on the angel in his passenger seat. He hadn’t meant for it to come out with such spite, but Cas crossed a line when he made that comparison. Especially when it were his dearest older brothers who’d plotted on making the world a playground for their pissing contest.

It was probably misdirected anger, but it wasn’t unjustified in anyway. His 40 years in hell were for shit, and now his brother was going to go through the same torture just because he had to save the world from the ones that were supposed be its guardians.

Castiel blinked one mild confusion when Dean abruptly stopped the car, turning his gaze to peer over at him. However, he would’ve been almost blinded by the seething rage that the human’s soul radiated. His words had angered Dean, and what came out of the human’s mouth was enough to break through his usual stone-cold expression.

Castiel knew that Dean’s mental being was in an unhealthy condition currently, and whatever he said was the result of intense grief that he was carrying, with losing his brother. But hearing him insult his siblings, his family and his father hit a personal spot in Castiel’s grace. And it...hurt.

If he could, he would’ve made his anger known to the human. He would’ve told him to watch his tongue. He would’ve smote him for such blasphemy if there wasn’t at least a bit of truth in Dean’s words. One that Castiel was too afraid to admit to himself.

  
“You think Heaven’s broken beyond repair. Didn’t you think that Sam was too far gone with the demon blood? Yet you never let your faith in him waver. You believed in his ability to do good. I trusted him because of you. So how do you expect me to act differently in this case, Dean? Just give up on my family, leave them to fend for themselves? They aren’t ideal, and they’ve been following a blind plan for millennia. But if not for me, then who can make them realise just what they’re doing wrong?”

Castiel’s voice was calm, however there was a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes. In this moment, he looked more human than he’d ever had before.

Dean clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing down further. He couldn’t believe Cas was still spewing the family bullshit. He still saw something redeemable in those selfish sons of bitches. The ones that hadn’t hesitated to torch each other when it best fit their interest. He’d seen something in Dean too—seen him carve real gems out of the damned souls in hell with a smile on his face and still somehow deemed his ass worthy to be ‘raised from perdition’. Dean didn’t know whether to admire just how inherently (and foolishly) good Castiel was, or to knock some sense into the angel.

Of course the hunter decided on the latter, it was more characteristic. And he didn’t want to talk about anything to do with hell right now.

  
"Sam was under influence. That bitch Ruby—she had her claws into him long before any o’ us realised. Put up one hell of an act.”

Castiel let a sharp breath out, which in human terms would’ve amounted to a disapproving huff. Dean resisted the urge punch the angel in the face.

  
“Yeah, alright. Maybe we should’a listened to you. But y’know what Cas, despite it all he was still my little brother. I trusted him, and he trusted me back. Can you say the same about your family—the angels? Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you can trust even one of those glow-torches to watch your back after you kamikaze-d a bunch of them for some dirt monkeys like us?”

  
Dean’s voice was hard, his words harsher and yet there was a thin layer of genuine concern to them that didn’t escape Castiel’s senses. The hunter’s deep green eyes bore into him with such intensity, that Dean could’ve infiltrated into his grace if it hadn’t been for his limited human abilities.

As much as Castiel hated to admit it to himself, Dean wasn’t wrong. He’d been floating in the silent pride of being God’s chosen that he hadn’t remembered the hostility of his own brethren against him when he’d chose to side with the Winchesters. Cold, emotionless soldiers operating on orders coming higher up from the celestial chain of command. Not long ago he’d been one of them. So, if he could change, wasn’t it natural for him to hope the same for his brothers and sisters?

“Dean…”

Though, Dean was already speaking—a little hushed, the sharpness in his voice dulled fractionally.

“You can trust us, Cas. Me and Bobby. We’ll figure it out. Always do.”

Dean’s eyes stayed on him, lingered on him for a moment too long before inadvertently turning back to the road. Sam was gone, and he was most likely never coming back. The reality of it hurt him more than the ripping of his body to pieces ever did, and that part of him that was Sammy would always feel hollow. Incomplete. But he had the wisp of comfort knowing that at least he had Bobby. He wasn’t sure he would’ve kept going if he’d lost both of them. He almost did if it wasn’t for—

Cas.

He had Cas too. Or thought he did. But now the angel was leaving, back to the place he belonged. Back to heaven, his real family. And not whatever Dean was to him, if anything at all. Wasn’t that just a bag of salt dumped all over his already flayed body?

Castiel kept his eyes on the darker streaks that enveloped Dean’s soul, dimming in brightness with every passing moment. His grace felt in unexplainable tug towards the hunter’s essence, however Castiel put a lease on it. He continued to stare at the human, mincing the words that he’d said. On surface, it was a reassurance on Dean’s part of solidarity. Of familiarity. Brotherhood.

But the unspoken ‘Stay’ didn’t escape either of them. In some language only they understood, Dean had said the delicate word and Cas had heard it, loud and clear.

Yet, Castiel could not stay. Because if he did, he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to leave. Keep the promise he’d made Sam. A promise that he shared with Dean.

To move on. Without Sam. Without each other.


	2. Iris.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel continue their conversation in the Impala.
> 
> Cas ‘needs’ to go back to heaven but he ‘wants‘ to stay on Earth. With Dean.
> 
> They’re always stuck in these endless loops of wants and needs. Would this time be any different?

**“And I'd give up forever to touch you**

**'Cause I know that you feel me somehow**

**You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be**

**And I don't want to go home right now.”**

**—Iris(Goo Goo Dolls)**

The seconds that passed between Dean and Castiel felt like eons after the older Winchester admitted to his unsaid wish of wanting the angel to stay. The absolute silence in the Impala was only disturbed by the oscillating pattern of rain drops drumming against the roof. However, there was an uneasiness in the air between them, a spark of hope and countless little human things that Castiel couldn’t make sense of. So he did the only thing that DID seem to— 

He kept looking at Dean, noticing the way his expression slowly softened the hard crevices on his face. The human didn’t look angry as much he was tired. Defeated, more like. Something Castiel had never known Dean to be. He’d seen the man during his absolute low in hell and yet his soul had never been as dimmed as it was in this moment.

If Castiel was human, he would‘ve reached out to Dean. Perhaps provide some physical comfort that Dean denied needing. But being an angel, he was never well-versed in the Earthly ways of touch. Or communication for that matter.

“I—I apologise for your loss, Dean. And I do trust you. However, it won’t be in the best interest for either of us if I stayed. Though I…will watch over you, always, albeit from a distance.”

Castiel stopped there, but it was only because the echo of Dean’s ‘Stay’ reverberated louder with every passing second. Even though he could see the molecules of clear air between them, he couldn’t help but feel them compress close to each other, creating a subliminal cage to trap him in with Dean. He trailed off for a moment, ocean blues getting lost in ivy green. Apparently the said cage was actually a mirror—because he saw his own likeness reflected in every single molecule around Dean. He allowed his essence to see himself through the human’s point of view just a moment longer, before taking in a deep breath that he didn’t actually need and continued in a hushed tone.

  
“Sam made you promise something. The same thing he asked me. For you to leave this hunting life. For me to make sure you settle down. With someone who’ll accept you knowing who you are. Someone...human.”

That last word rolled off Castiel’s tongue like it was something pious. A holier, higher being than he—a literal angel of the lord could ever hope to be. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that he was this body that he’d borrowed, it would only ever be a ‘meatsuit’. Dean didn’t even know what his true form looked like. Despite the cosmic bond that had forged his grace together with Dean’s soul, he would never understand Dean as well as another human would.

Her name was Lisa Braeden. She was ‘normal’. She had a bland, small but safe and happy life. And she was just what Dean needed. He deserved that safety and happiness. A domestic life sans carrying the burdens of the world. It was Castiel’s job to make sure of it, even if a minuscule part of his essence—the one that was tainted with unexplainable feelings for this one human, rebelled silently against the decision.

Dean’s jaw clenched hard for a moment, mulling over how Cas’ voice quieted towards the end, contrasted by the blaring thoughts in his head. With that single word, Cas had drawn an immovable line between them. Or rather just retraced over the obvious difference that Dean had chosen to ignore for the past two years. Of his own humanity and Castiel’s divinity. How had he forgotten the simple fact that Cas—Castiel just wasn’t human? He was a damn cosmic being. Of course, he doesn’t ‘feel’ stuff. Doesn’t have the ability to.

And yet, Dean had been confident that the angel and he shared something. A sort of camaraderie. “We’re making it up as we go”—he’d said before sacrificing himself to save his and Sam’s asses. Taken on a whole archangel all by himself, this bastard. That had to mean something to him. Or maybe it didn’t. He’d skipped the Angels 101 class at Sunday school. Had no idea how their brains, or whatever equivalent they had, worked. However, he’d been sure that Castiel was different. So damn better than Michael and his army of gun ‘em downs.

But then again, Castiel owed him nothing. Not after staying by his side had only brought him death and destruction. Maybe he was better off in heaven, surrounded by his own ‘kind’. And if he was being honest, giving up the responsibility of looking after the world to someone else did sound pretty sweet right about now. Castiel was probably the best choice for running heaven.

Dean subconsciously wished he wasn’t.

He took a sharp breath in, shaking his head absently and averting his gaze away from Cas’ increasingly softened eyes. The expression was achingly familiar, a dangerously similar rendition of Sam’s. He sighed and turned to keep his eyes locked on the highway stretched rather melancholically in front of them. He wasn’t going to let the tears cross the threshold of his eyelashes. Not when Cas was right there. Not when he would soon be gone in the blink of an eye.

And so he did what Dean Winchester does the best. Hide his despair with shitty, lewd humour.

  
“You won’t peep in when I’m making some sweet love now, would ya? A guy needs his privacy, man.”

Dean side-eyed the angel before giving him the most pathetic excuse of a smile. Castiel was still looking at him with the softness swimming in his deep blue eyes that made Dean’s stomach turn and his heart clench simultaneously. He simply watched as Cas’ trademarked brand of an almost-smile appeared on his chapped lips along with a slight shake of his head.

  
“I assure your privacy will be respected, Dean.”

  
Castiel’s eyes had stayed on Dean long after he’d moved his own on to the road. As if he was trying to remember each detail. It was ridiculous to even think about, because there was no way Castiel could ever forget Dean Winchester—the man whose body he’d crafted with his own hands. The one whose soul carried an imprint of his grace.

Dean’s quick switch to his standard defence mechanism didn’t go unnoticed by Castiel. He knew just enough about Dean and his affinity towards humour when it came to escaping the confrontation with the emotional turmoil and overwhelming grief in his head. It truly saddened him to see Dean’s once illuminating soul fractured in a way that Castiel could never fix.

For not the first time that night, he contemplated how it would be like. To not go back to heaven. To stay here and protect the righteous man, just like he was originally supposed to. And had circumstances been different, he would’ve most likely given in to the temptation.

Instead, he steadied his voice and tried to convince himself more than Dean just why they had to part ways—his smile long since gone.

  
“Dean, it is not my intention to hurt you any more. You have been through enough and you have done everything you could for this world. Now, let me take care of it. I do know that you have always longed for a domestic life. Once you’re settled enough with the Braedens, I’ll be merely a distant memory.”

  
Dean wanted to scoff. Or roll his eyes at the sheer absurdity of Castiel’s words. Or curse him for being so damn selfless. Yeah, right. Like a supernatural being whose mere existence was beyond Dean’s comprehension, who’d walked into that barn with all his righteous glory, whose one gaze chilled his spine to the core could ever be a ‘distant memory’ to him.

Like his social awkwardness, those staple head tilts and eye squints, that fashion-tragedy of a trenchcoat and the inability to understand sarcasm would ever stop being endearing to Dean.

Castiel was the storm, and he was the calm. He was full of contradictions because he himself was a paradox—too human to be an angel and too angel to be a human. He was two worlds colliding in a single body, struggling to keep the balance. He was heaven’s fierce enforcer, a decorated soldier of wars fought long before the creation of humanity. But he was also Dean’s…friend. Confused, yes but also unimaginably gentle and understanding when it came to him. Then, how could he forget a being—friend like Castiel?

How dare he?

Castiel sat in the passenger seat, hands folded in his lap, black hair as messy as ever and blue eyes focused on some particularly fascinating point on Baby’s dashboard. So simply, casually. Like he wasn’t something entirely otherworldly. Divine. Someone that didn’t belong here with some broken, human filth like Dean. And now he understood. Castiel was too damn good for humanity. For this dump of a planet he called home.

  
For him.

  
“Yeah, ‘cause it’s everyday that an angel of the friggin’ lord yanks my ass outta hell.”

Dean muttered under his breath, but nothing escaped the angel sitting beside him now, did it? He felt the warm intensity of Cas’ eyes back on him, and for once he let the familiar comfort of it wash over him. Closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if bracing himself for the that electric buzz of the connection they shared whenever their eyes met. However, it never worked. Now, like always, Dean found himself drowning into the unending depth of Cas’ shade of blue.

He took in a shaky breath, before gaining his composure he’d swear he hadn’t lost.

  
“Cas…you’re family, man. After Sam and Bobby, you’re the only guy I can trust with my damn life. Don’t get me wrong, retiring does sound hella appealing. I mean in this line of work, you barely live up to your thirties. It’s more than I can ask for. And I guess I have you to thank for that. For…just everything you’ve done for us.”

  
There was a hint of silent desperation in Dean’s voice that remained ever so subtle, but enough for Castiel to pick up on. He realised that he’d been staring quite a while, which was considered rude amongst the humans. So he took ahold of himself and pulled his gaze away, fingers intertwined with each other. His lips almost twitched upwards for a moment.

Castiel proceeded to brush off the flutter of something foreign that bristled his grace. Every single syllable that Dean spoke was drenched with utmost sincerity, and his eyes further cemented how much he meant what he said. Castiel was family, he was Dean’s family. And it was the same conundrum of by birth and by choice all over again. He was tethered to heaven by duty and he was bound to Dean Winchester by…something he didn’t know the name of.

“The trust goes both ways, Dean. You helped me see the truth of heaven’s plan, taught me about free will. I suppose I should be grateful. Thank you, truly.”

Dean knew he wasn’t worthy of Cas’ gratitude. He’d been a little shit to the angel for the better part of their acquaintance. But he didn’t speak those thoughts out loud, because judging by the beginnings of a frown on Cas’ face, he’d probably already heard them anyway. He only managed to nod, hating how much this sounded like a permanent goodbye.

“I—I thought of a proposition.”

That quirked up Dean’s ears, and because apparently Castiel had been thinking the same thing—what came out of the angel’s mouth next made something hopeful bloom against his chest.

  
“Alright, buddy. Hit me.”

Castiel looked over at the sky through Baby’s windshield, before the words came, in that deep and calming voice of a being who’d existed for the length of time that Dean could only imagine.

“I will make periodic visits to Earth to...check in, as you would put it. I will keep my end of Sam’s promise, as long as you do too. I doubt heaven will permit such visits, but perhaps they will have to make a few exceptions.”

When Cas looked back up at Dean, there was a glint of affection flooding his warm, blue eyes. And maybe something else, that neither of them could quite place their finger onto. This might’ve seemed like an act of selfishness to the host, but it was something Castiel thought he owed to himself and Dean. And the wave of relief that the human’s soul exuded let him know that the feeling was mutual.

It wouldn’t be their final goodbye.


End file.
